On being a mother.

Last night I distinctly remember turning to Jeff and saying "This is the night from hell." Vera just would not stop nursing and fussing and kicking my stomach and legs with those sharp little toes. At one point I just pulled her off and plopped her in the middle of the bed and said "I quit." Teething. I’m drinking really strong coffee this morning.

So, we’ve been up a couple of hours- er, out of bed at least- and she asked to nurse by slamming her head into my chest and crying. Right after she was done she looked up at me, with those glossy just-milked eyes and fat cheeks, obviously satisfied and comfortable, and I just love her. I love her so much that I can hardly stand it. Any pain, any sleepless night, anything. My life is so much better now. In innumerable ways. I mostly feel gratitude that she chose us to be her parents. I feel grateful for every scar left on my belly, for the dark circles under my eyes, for the richness that my life has now. That’s really all I could say about it. I love being a mother, in ways I couldn’t have imagined or anticipated.


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